


Clarisse La Rue: The Backstory

by Drizzt_Do_Urden



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Backstory, Cults, Fanon, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Original Character(s), OC Relatives-Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzt_Do_Urden/pseuds/Drizzt_Do_Urden
Summary: A fanon backstory I made up for Clarisse La Rue.





	1. Chapter 1

       A crucial element of any and all dark rituals that involve copulation and impregnation, is the willingness of the participant getting impregnated. Much to the dismay of the Grigori Amorati, a cult that specialized in these sort of rituals, they completely forgot to ensure this element. And the results were all too predictable. Well, at first. 

       "What?" screamed Scarlet la Rue when she learned which Nephilim-descended cretin had been picked to impregnate her. "You're having me sleep with Jeffrey Hathaway?!" 

        "It has already been decided," the hooded Master of Ceremonies droned. "You will sleep with Jeffrey Hathaway, and carry his child, bringing the blood of the divine to your bloodline." 

         "But...but..."

         Scarlet stared at the  clean-cut man in the bathrobe across from her, trying to discern any god-like, angelic, or otherwise supernatural traits in his face, and saw nothing. Nothing except the face of a middle-aged man creepily leering at Scarlet through her see-through white dress. 

           _Maybe he's descended from the god of sleazy, middle-aged lounge singers?_   She guessed. 

        "No buts!" the Master of Ceremonies declared. "You will lie with Jeffrey Hathaway this night, and bear his child." 

        Bear his child...and if the pregnancy was successful, and the baby lived, it would be raised by Scarlet's parents and the Grigori Amorati as a whole. Then Scarlet would be put up for marriage, with her possible husbands being the same men who were her baby's possible fathers. A group which included Jeffrey Hathaway...

       Scarlet shook her head. 

      "No!" she declared. "No! I won't be part of this! I am not going to be your baby-maker! Find someone else to help you with your superhuman breeding program!" 

      With that, she turned, stepped out of the white circle in the center of the room, and rushed out of the room, past all the shocked cult members in their grey-green robes. Once back in the la Rue manor proper, she then made her way up the stairs to her bedroom, where she immediately shed her dress and put on a tank top and some shorts. Once dressed, she flopped onto her bed and began reading a book. 

      Scarlet la Rue was hardly a few pages in when her sister Hailey walked in and pleaded, 

      "Scarlet, please, come back and complete the ritual! Dad's fit to blow a gasket!" 

      "I'm not sleeping with Jeffrey Hathaway!"  Scarlet cried, slamming the book shut. 

      "But the ritual's almost over!" Hailey whined. 

       "Good." 

      "Oh, come on," Hailey pleaded. "You're not the only one who got a crappy Nephilim. _I_ had to sleep with Jeffrey's _brother_!" 

      "Harold just stole from the till," Scarlet pointed out, snorting in disgust. "Plus, at least Harold's the same age as us. Jeffrey's old enough to be my _father_! Hell, he could very well _be_ my father! He was a candidate when _Mom_ had her first insemination ceremony!" 

     Scarlet got off of the bed and grabbed her purse. 

     "Anyway, I'm going to get smashed. You can go back to the ceremony."

      Hailey sighed. 

      "No, I'm coming with you," she said. "Harold was _not_ good in bed."

       And thus the sisters found themselves at one of Phoenix's finest biker bars, which was filled to the brim with muscled men in love with motorcycles. And it was there that Scarlet, hardly having bought her first drink, got an idea.

      "You certain this lot is one hundred percent human, right?" she asked Hailey. 

       "The likelihood of a Nephilim of any type waiting here is-wait a minute. You're not thinking-Scarlet, the fertility drugs haven't worn off yet!" 

       Scarlet winked. 

       "That's the idea." 

       "Oh, come on. I know you're not happy about Jeffrey, but _please_. Mom and Dad will _kill_ you if you have an unauthorized regular baby." 

      "They won't kill me. They'll just completely disown me." 

      "That's not-" 

      "Too late," Scarlet said, as she stood up, walked away from the bar and eyed the tables filled with burly bikers. 

      "Eenie meenie, minie moe," Scarlet whispered to herself, pointing at random bikers as she did. "Catch a tiger by the toe, if she hollers," 

       Scarlet's finger eventually found itself pointing at a handsome biker with a black crew cut and a scarred face. 

        "Let it go," she breathed, and sashayed over to the biker. 

        "Hey, handsome," she said, deliberately positioning herself in just such a way that the biker could get a good view of her chest, "Like what you see?" 

        "Yes," said the biker with a smirk. "Yes, I do." 

        "What do you say we get out of here?" she said. "You can leave the condoms at home." 

         And thus Scarlet La Rue and the biker ended up walking out of the bar and making sweet, sweet love at a somewhat nice hotel nearby, much to Hailey's chagrin. And, of course, Scarlet got pregnant, much to her eventual dismay. 

        Emphasis on eventual, because six weeks later, when the pregnancy test first showed up positive, Scarlet la Rue whooped with delight. 

        "Yes! One all-natural, one hundred percent human baby coming up!"

        "I cannot _believe_ you're happy about this," Hailey groaned from the adjoining bedroom, shaking her head.

        "Relax, I've already got a down payment on an apartment," Scarlet assured her, walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door. "Plus, I've got a pretty good job. This is my way out." 

        Scarlet flopped down on the bed and sighed. 

       "It's lucky we chose to go that bar when we did, huh? Say...I should probably call that biker and tell him. You know, to thank him." 

       " _Thank_ him?" Hailey cried. "Do you honestly think he wants a child? Do you honestly think he'll be happy to find out you used him to get a child?" 

       Scarlet sighed. 

      "Probably not. It's just as well. I just remembered I don't have his number." 

     Then an idea came to Scarlet. 

      "He might be at the bar, though." 

      And thus it was back to the bar, where indeed she found her child's father. Upon doing so, she immediately hugged him and said, 

       "Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man! Thank you so much!" 

        "Um..." the biker replied. "What?" 

        "I'm pregnant and you're the father!" Scarlet explained, whooping with delight. 

        "I'm the-" 

        "Yes! Come on, I'll take you to meet my parents! I can't wait to see the looks on their faces!"   
         And so she and the biker went back to the La Rue mansion, where they found Scarlet's parents sitting in the parlor. Mrs. La Rue was knitting baby clothes for Hailey's baby, and Mr. La Rue was reading the newspaper. 

        "Mom! Dad! Guess what? I'm pregnant! And _this man_ is the father!" 

        Mr. and Mrs. La Rue dropped their respective newspaper and knitting and gasped. 

        "Yes! And the best part is, I don't even know his name! I just met him in a bar six weeks ago, and all I know is, he got me pregnant with a one hundred percent, all-natural, _human_ baby!" 

        "No!" Mr. and Mrs. La Rue gasped in unison. 

        "Uh..." the biker attempted to cut in. 

        "Yes," Scarlet cried. "There's not a _single drop_ of Nephilim blood in this baby. No gods, no demons, no angels, no nothing. It's just one hundred percent, sweet, unadulterated human!" 

         "Um...about that..." the biker continued. 

        "How dare you!" Mr. La Rue gasped. "You knew _full well_ we were the family chosen to bring the Grigori Amorati's carefully crafted Nephilim lineage into the human world! Your child was supposed to be the breakthrough!" 

        "Oh, come on," Scarlet pointed out. "You still have Hailey for that. And besides, it's too late now. Because me and my _human_ baby are going to blow this place and that'll be the last you or any of the other Grigori Amorati hear of us." 

        "Grigori what now?" the biker asked.

      "How could you do this to us?" Mrs. La Rue cried. "We worked so hard to-" 

      "Are you even certain there's no divinity in your child's father?" Mr. La Rue added.  " Did you check? Did you even do that much?" 

       Scarlet rolled her eyes. 

       "Lone half-gods and their sort don't live to be _drinking age_ ," she said. "And biker bars are not exactly smorgasbords of divine activity." 

        "For me, they are," the biker said. 

        Everyone turned to the biker.

        "And you would know this...how?" Mr. La Rue said testily. 

        The biker shrugged. 

        "I'm a war god," he replied. "I bring the divinity with me." 

        "You're _what_?!" Scarlet exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief.

        "I said I'm a war god," the biker said. 

        "And the baby you put in me is..." 

        "A demigod!" Mrs. La Rue cried, clasping her hands and beaming. "Half human, half god! Oh, this is wonderful!"

        Mr. La Rue knelt before the biker. 

        "I'm so sorry, Your Worship, if I was disrespectful," he apologized.

        Scarlet put her head in her palm and shook her head. 

        "This is not good," she groaned. "This is not good." 

        "Madam," the biker said, grabbing Scarlet's arm and dragging her into the hallway. "A word?" 

        "Oh, but of course," Mr. La Rue said, and obediently shut the door to the study. 

        "You _used_ me to get a child for yourself?! Without telling me?" the biker exclaimed. 

        "Look, I'm sorry," Scarlet said. "I am. I-it was wrong, I should know- especially since the same thing would've happened to me earlier that night. I shouldn't have used you as a brood mare, and now I'm paying the price. This situation-it's wrong- for the both of us!" 

       "The both of us?" the biker scoffed. "Your folks seem thrilled to have a demigod in the family." 

       "Which wasn't what I wanted!" Scarlet cried. "I wanted a _human_ baby so they would disown me and escape the Grigori Amorati!" 

       "The what?" the biker roared. 

       Scarlet sighed. 

       "It's a cult," she said. "A cult of creepy eugenicists who want to breed demigods, half-demons, and half-angels and their descendants to craft the perfect human race. My...family belongs to this cult. That's why my folks are so happy that I'm carrying a demigod. A child that's half-human, half god? That's the _dream_ scenario for them." 

     Scarlet groaned.

     "And I can't even abort it because the embryo is immortal, which means we're stuck with the cult using my-our child to further its goals." 

     The biker furrowed his eyebrows. 

     "Wait...how does this cult even get their hands on demigods?" 

     "Most of us are legacies," Scarlet explained. "All the families in the cult-except for mine-have at least one demigod or half-angel or half-demon ancestor and the cult interbreeds members from its families to create super lineages that end up being a mix of all three. Although occasionally we find a lost little demigod/half-angel/half-demon/what-have-you, take it in, and use it for breeding."

      "They... _kidnap_ demigods?" the biker growled. 

     Scarlet shrugged. 

     "More like we find them on the street and take them for ourselves," she said. "But yeah, I guess you could call it that. Hell, it probably _is_ that." 

      The biker roared,

      "Your people take my kids and use them for your breeding program?!" 

     "Yes...no...I don't know!" Scarlet cried. "I don't even know which war god you are! There are so many!" 

     The biker sighed. 

      "Ares," he said. "The name's Ares." 

 


	2. Dark Messiah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grigori Amorati celebrates its

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may have accidentally come up with a plot more interesting than anything I could come up with for later.  
>  I mean, a pregnant woman deliberately positions her magic fetus/embryo as a Dark Messiah in order to plunge a eugenics-obsessed cult into civil war all so she can escape said cult? That's way too good, and it's going to cost me.  
>  I mean, I can't make this plan flawless. After all, Clarisse hasn't even been born yet! There needs to be tension.

          Naturally, the rest of the Grigori Amorati was thrilled to hear that one of members was pregnant with a real, live, demigod. So thrilled, in fact, that the cults' leaders decided to throw an enormous party in celebration of it. The dress code, of course, being white-tie.  

          Ares, naturally, refused to attend, since it turned out that the Grigori Amorati had, as a matter of fact, kidnapped the occasional child of his over the centuries. 

           Scarlet La Rue, unfortunately, had no such freedom to decline. She was the guest of honor!

        So thus Scarlet La Rue found herself standing near the buffet table, wearing a resplendent gold satin evening gown and silver tiara studded with diamonds, feeling absolutely miserable, while the other Grigori Amorati happily milled about the beautiful ballroom. 

        And, of course, she garnered absolutely no sympathy from Hailey, who, it turned out, was as green with envy as her deep emerald dress.

        "Figures," Hailey snapped as she glared at her sister. "Out of all the people here who would happily spread their legs before a god or an angel or a demon or whatever, you get to be the lucky one. You, the one who least deserves to be carrying a god's child." 

         "Look, I'm not happy about it, either," Scarlet pointed out, sipping out of a champagne glass filled with water. "Hell, I expected to be disowned and out of town by now."

          Scarlet eyed her sister's empty champagne glass. 

          "I take it your night with Harold wasn't a success?" 

         Hailey rolled her eyes. 

         "Just the opposite, actually. " 

         "Oh," Scarlet said, glancing down at Hailey's stomach. "I'm sorry." 

         "And the worst part is, he wants to raise the baby together." Hailey grumbled. 

         "But...aren't the firstborn raised by the cult collectively?" Scarlet asked. "Like I was?" 

          "Yes," Hailey acknowledged, "But if the dad really, really wants to, the Council will let him marry the girl and raise the child together. And Harold really, really wants to."

           Scarlet sighed in relief.

          "Guess I really dodged a bullet there, huh? _My_ baby daddy refuses to so much as _speak_ to me."

           Hailey rolled her eyes. 

           "Oh, poor, poor Scarlet," she said mockingly. "How I'd hate to be like you, lucking out into bearing the freaking messiah!" 

            Scarlet spat out the water she was currently drinking in shock. 

          "What?!" she exclaimed. 

          "Oh, did nobody tell you?" Hailey said with a sigh. "You're not just pregnant with the Grigori Amorati's first-ever homegrown demigod, but half the Grigori Amorati wants to someday follow your unborn baby into taking over the world!"

          "That's true," interjected Harold, who suddenly appeared from  behind Hailey to lovingly touch her belly. "The Grigori Amorati's been longing for a demigod, or a Nephilim, or a Cambion to lead us into battle against the corrupt human world since at least the Civil War. And a good portion believes we can only succeed if our leader comes directly from the divine-or not so divine- source."

        "Oh, really?" Scarlet asked, a small smile forming on her face as the beginnings of a plan fermented in her brain. 

        "Y-yes," Harold stammered. "But the idea never really gained traction up until now. Namely because most gods, demons, or angels will have nothing to do with us. Before you, the only halfway plausible way its proponents got the plan to work was by augmenting one or two of the half-gods, cambions, and Nephilim we catch. None ever...survived the augmentation, of course, and it's incredibly hard to catch wild Nephilim in the first place. So the main plan, of course, is to continue to try and breed the super-warrior ourselves." 

        "But...since we've got our very own demigod now," Hailey explained, rolling her eyes, "The 'pure demigod' plan is now apparently viable." 

        "I bet it is," Scarlet agreed, smirking as she grabbed a spoon and walked to the center of the room. Scarlet tapped the spoon against her glass and announced as the crowd fell silent: 

         "My fellow Grigori Amorati, let me say, I am _thrilled_ to be the mother of our future leader. Nay, honored. I never- I never expected that I would someday have the honor of heralding our bright new future. I look forward to the day when my child ushers in a _glorious_ new day for us all." 

           Everyone gasped and started muttering amongst themselves. Since when was Scarlet La Rue, the prodigal daughter, so on board with the program? Was this the same young woman who'd run out on her own insemination ceremony? 

         "Pardon me," stammered the Master of Ceremonies, as he stepped out of the crowd towards Scarlet, "But isn't it a bit too soon to determine whether your child is really the leader we've been waiting for? I mean, we don't even know the child's sex-" 

         "Oh, I should thing sex is _hardly_ an issue when my child is the scion of a _god_ ," Scarlet loudly interrupted. "As in, halfway divine. Boy or girl, a child with that level of power can _easily_ lead us to victory against the puny mortals."

         "Y-your _mother_ is a mortal!" the Master of Ceremonies sputtered. "A filthy, _unwanted_ mortal your grandmother Lucy-may she rest in peace-took in to make herself feel better after losing her own child so soon. And your father is but an up-jumped, nouveau riche bastard we let in because-" 

        "Oh, but he's not my real father, is he?" Scarlet pointed out. "My mother had her insemination ceremony _long_ before she married dear old Mr. La Rue. As you well know, he's only my stepfather at best. My real father could be anyone-from the choicest specimen of our carefully crafted Nephilim bloodlines to a demigod himself. And even if he wasn't-do you really think it wise to insult the mother of your future savior?" 

          Scarlet dropped her champagne glass onto the floor, letting it crash onto the marble floor of the ballroom as she walked out. 

     The Master of Ceremonies was not the only one to disagree with Scarlet's new direction, however. 

        "No!" screamed Ares in Scarlet's bedroom later that night. " _Absolutely not!_ You are NOT letting my child lead your little band of...motherfucking...fornicators to world domination! Don't you think it's enough that-" 

        Scarlet smirked. 

        "I'm not leading them anywhere." 

        Ares's brow furrowed in confusion. 

       "Then...then why-?" 

       "They're divided," Scarlet said as she picked up a goblet of grape juice from a nightstand near the French windows and swirled it around. "Half of want a miracle baby from your kind to lead us, and the other half wants to keep crafting a miracle baby drafted from their perfectly curated gene pool to lead them. It's an argument which used to be a moot point...until now." 

       "Until..." 

       "Yes, because now that I'm in possession of a miracle baby," Scarlet said as she took a sniff of the grape juice. "The argument isn't so moot anymore. I figure, why not fan the flames of warfare? Why not pit both sides against each other until the Grigori Amorati destroys itself, long before any promised invasion can take place." 

        Ares raised an eyebrow. 

       "And what happens to you? More importantly, what happens to my child?" 

        Scarlet put down her goblet, picked up a bottle of wine, and poured some into a matching silver goblet.

        "I walk away from the chaos an independent woman, and the child leads a long, healthy, normal life."

        "You're evil," Ares exclaimed, grinning as he picked up the goblet of wine. "I like it!" 

       "And best of all," Scarlet added as she picked up her goblet of grape juice, "The Grigori Amorati never bothers you, or any hapless demigod, Nephilim, or Cambion-or anyone else for that matter-ever again." 

         Ares whistled. 

         "Maybe you're not such a bad human after all," he mused. "But don't you have to lead one of the sides?" 

         Scarlet laughed. 

         "Must every reformer have pure intentions?" 

          Ares smiled. 

         "I suppose not." 

         "To infighting, then," Scarlet said as she raised her glass. "And to the end of the Grigori Amorati."

        Ares raised his own glass. 

         "Sure. I'll drink to that." 

          


	3. Civil War: The Prelude

          "I'm sorry, my dear, but I am afraid that Seamus really is your father," Mrs. La Rue confessed to Scarlet while the young mother-to-be wrote a letter requesting a DNA test to the Grigori Council. 

          Mrs. La Rue dropped a paper on top of Scarlet's letter. 

          "And here are the results to prove it." 

           Scarlet mulled over the results and saw that much to her disappointment, that the one hundred percent human Mr. Seamus La Rue did indeed share enough DNA with her to be her father. Which meant that given that her mother was an adopted child of pure human stock-Scarlet was one hundred percent human as well.  There was no Nephilim, Cambion, or demigod blood in Scarlet to help her case against the anti-homegrown demigod leader faction that had sprung up in response to her actions at the party. 

          But a pure 50-50%  ratio of supernatural to human  _could_ help separate the true believers from the not-so-faithful amongst Scarlet's faction, thus consolidating the faction into a nice cohesive unit. It was something, but not the "my baby isn't just a demigod, she's half god, half carefully bred Grigori" argument she'd hoped for. 

          "The pregnancy from my insemination ceremony ended in a miscarriage," Mrs. La Rue explained, slowly taking apart the extensive pile of genealogy books Scarlet had been poring over and putting them back on the library shelves.

         "But, I do have something that might be better. You know Jeffrey and Harold Hathaway's mother." 

          "What about her?" 

          "Well, it turns out, she's just like me-an adopted human child. And what's worse is, the birth father of Jeffrey and Harold Hathaway is not Mr. Hathaway. He is, in fact, the Hathaways' butler- a man who also happens to be one hundred percent human. And I-" 

          Mrs. La Rue dropped a manila folder into Scarlet's lap, 

          "Have the DNA results to prove it." 

          Scarlet opened the manila folder and scanned the papers in it. 

          "No," she gasped. "No, it can't be." 

         "Yes," Mrs. La Rue assured her, grinning wickedly. 

         "But this means... Hailey's baby is...one hundred percent human too!" 

         Mrs. La Rue frowned. 

         "Yes, and it's quite unfortunate. Still, I'm so happy you've finally come around to our mission. And I just want you to know dear, I will do anything for my grandchild and your cause." 

         Mrs. La Rue kissed Scarlet's cheek and then walked out of the library. 

      ***

       "Typical," Hailey grumbled as she stared at herself in the bridal boutique's mirror. "She flees the insemination ceremony and sleeps with a biker, and she ends up pregnant with the messiah. Meanwhile I follow the rules and end up pregnant with a lowly _human_."

       The Council had, in typical sexist fashion, decided to ignore Hailey's plea to raise her baby collectively, choosing instead to grant an entitled Harold Hathaway's request to marry Hailey La Rue. And Hailey, upon learning of Harold and Jeffrey's true father, had decided that it was for the best, since if her child was raised by the cult, it would probably be killed the minute they realized it had no divine or demonic blood to speak of. And if she aborted it, the Council would immediately start asking questions.

       And thus Hailey had resigned herself to a lifetime with Harold, the man she least wanted to marry. 

      "Oh, come, it's not your fault," Mrs. La Rue assured her, as she smoothed Hailey's chestnut locks. 

      "No, it's that bitch Mrs. Hathaway's," Hailey snapped. "For not being able to keep it in her damned pants. Or, at the very least, for not using some damned contraception." 

     ***

     "And do you, Harold Hathaway, accept this woman as your lawful wedded wife?" the Master of Ceremonies asked as he, Harold, and Hailey stood under a white archway threaded with artificial pink roses. 

     The entire Grigori Amorati had gathered at the Four Points by Sheraton for the wedding-not for Harold and Hailey specifically, of course. The Hathaway family's influence in the cult was minimal at best, and Hailey, despite being the daughter of a nouveau riche mortal upstart, had been practically invisible up until now. No, they were all here because of Scarlet. 

       Some of them were opportunists in Scarlet's faction, using the fact that she and Hailey were sisters to try and curry favor with Scarlet. And the rest were here because of the drama Scarlet had created using the knowledge Mrs. La Rue had given her. 

      Scarlet had aired poor Mrs. Hathaway's dirty laundry to her supporters, causing them to be horrified at the incompetence of the Master of Ceremonies, who had taken to leading Scarlet's opposition. Disgusted by his mismanagement, Scarlet's supporters had taken to lauding her for running out on her insemination ceremony-which scandalized Scarlet's more conservative opponents. 

        Meanwhile, Scarlet had allowed the truth about her parentage to leak to her opponents, who had seized on it with a vengeance, using it to discredit her as a leader. This in turn scandalized Scarlet's supporters, who, Scarlet had been surprised to find, didn't care who her father was. 

       And thus Scarlet's supporters, who sat on the left side of the aisle, spent their time giving the Master of Ceremonies and Harold Hathaway dirty looks. Scarlet's opponents, who sat on the right side, took to glaring at Scarlet's supporters. Meanwhile, Scarlet sat in the front, reveling in all of the drama, while her parents gazed happily at Hailey, oblivious to it all. Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway, sadly, could not make it, as the revelations about Jeffrey and Harold's paternity had caused them to get embroiled in a messy divorce. Jeffrey did have the courtesy to show up to his brother's wedding, but, embarrassed by both the revelations about his paternity and Scarlet's rapid rise to power, had fallen in with the oppositon and honestly could not care what happened to his brother.

       "I do," Harold declared, beaming at a disgusted Hailey. 

       "And do you, Hailey La Rue, accept this man as your lawful wedded husband?" the Master of Ceremonies said as he turned to Hailey. 

       "I do," Hailey replied, heaving a disgusted sigh. 

       "Now, if anyone has a reason as to why these two should not be wed, let them speak now or forever hold their peace," the Master of Ceremonies announced loudly. 

        "I object!" screamed one of Scarlet's supporters from his place in the seats. "If they marry, she'll just produce more human children with him!"

        "Yes!" agreed another supporter. "They'll dilute our stock with their filthy genes!" 

        Hailey rolled her eyes. 

         "Oh, believe me," she said. "I am _not_ having any more kids with him. The _moment_ this baby comes out, I am getting my tubes tied!" 

         "Getting your tubes..." gasped one of Scarlet's opponents. "But that's...that's..."

          "You...you really would... _do that_? But... why?" Harold cried, taken aback by Hailey's declaration and horrified that her goals did not line up with his own.

          Mrs. La Rue stood up and shook her head with disgust. 

          "I thought I raised you better than that, Hailey," she declared. "I guess I was wrong." 

          Of course, Hailey had every right, and plenty of good reasons to, make the decision to become sterile. For one, Hailey despised her husband, and bearing any more children with him would surely cause more grief for her than it was worth. Two, producing multiple ordinary human children in a secret society that venerated and dedicated itself to the creation of super-beings was more humiliation than any woman would want to bear. Three, the only way to produce proper super-beings would be to cheat on Harold, something which would earn just as much scorn if found out. 

          But of course, when one is part of a eugenicist breeding cult, expressing autonomy in regards to one's reproductive choices would naturally earn derision and scorn. It certainly does even to women who don't associate with such cults. 

          Desperate to save Hailey more pain-and also to capitalize on the drama- Scarlet stood up and declared, 

         "Do not chide my poor sister so. She is only doing her duty to the Grigori Amorati as a whole. For knowing that her marriage will produce no warriors for our cause, she has nobly chosen to not produce at all, a sacrifice I, my baby, and any true followers of mine, _deeply appreciate_." 

         This instantly caused Scarlet's supporters to start backtracking, declaring how noble Hailey was and indeed, to start praising her. Scarlet's opponents, in response, started screaming about how dare Scarlet allow this, how _dare_ she use malicious rumors-because Scarlet had made sure that the DNA evidence was only "malicious rumors" to her opponents-to prop up Hailey's heresy. Anxious to keep the ceremony going, the Master of Ceremonies stomped his foot, causing everyone to shut up. 

         He then hurriedly announced, 

        "I now declare you to be husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." 

         And thus Hailey and Harold kissed, married but not happily. And as they kissed, the misery was starting to be mutual.

         For up until now, Harold had seen Hailey as a model member of the Grigori Amorati, and, because she was so rule-abiding, as pretty close to the ideal woman. Thus he was convinced that she was the ideal partner for him, and her constant rejection of him had done nothing to ruin this image. Indeed, it had only enhanced it. However, by daring to desire reproductive freedom for herself, Hailey had completely shattered this illusion, forcing Harold to see her, for the first time ever, as a real human being.

          And the idea of being married to a real human woman, who might desire to have some equal footing in this marriage, and had her own real desires, absolutely disgusted him. Determined to get out of this situation, the moment the reception began, Harold quickly abandoned his new wife and searched for a new self-sacrificial Madonna type to attach himself to. 

          And he inevitably found this Madonna type in Scarlet. For Scarlet, despite having been a rebellious, spoiled brat for most of their lives, had, in her determination to start a civil war, had crafted herself for herself a persona of devoted mother and cult leader that was too convincing for her own good. 

           Indeed, Harold now found Scarlet's devotion to her baby captivating and admirable, her determination to advance the cause noble. Scarlet's love of her baby was, in fact, an extension of her self-absorption, and her "cause" was a smokescreen for her real desire to destroy the Grigori and escape, but Harold was too self-centered to notice. 

          And when Harold chose to blatantly flirt with Scarlet all evening, paying no attention to Hailey, Scarlet allowed it, and flirted back with a passion. Scarlet did not love Harold either, but an affair with him would cause a wonderful scandal. Best case scenario, Hailey might defect to the opposition's side, allowing Scarlet to act all hurt and betrayed. Meanwhile, Hailey could be consoled by Scarlet's opponents, and become a martyr for their cause. 

         The only problem was, Scarlet and Harold could never have children. And Scarlet was not sure how Harold would react to that. 

         But for now, it was a great opportunity. So she let Harold pour on the charm and matched it with a few compliments of her own, all in front of Hailey. And when a livid Hailey cried, "I can't believe you!",

      All while dropping her glass and causing it to smash on the ground, Scarlet relished it. 

 


	4. Throwing Down The Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet declares war on the other half of the Grigori Amorati.

           Hailey, of course, could not care less about Harold. He had been a thorn in her side since the insemination ceremony, and if Harold had chosen to fall in love with _any other woman,_ she would have been thrilled. But Scarlet was not any other woman. Scarlet was her sister, and more importantly, a rebel turned dangerous cult leader. Scarlet did not care one bit about Harold, and was certainly not interested in having any children with him. Those children would be mortal, and of little use to her.

             No, all Scarlet cared about was using Hailey's pain to create a scandal. A scandal which could, if Hailey joined the loyalists, could give Scarlet the opportunity to look betrayed and gain more followers. Well, Hailey was not playing that game. 

             So when the Master of Ceremonies went to comfort and eventually try to recruit her, Hailey simply smiled sweetly and said, 

             "Scarlet's child is our long-awaited savior. Whatever flaws that child's vessel may have, I cannot simply abandon the cause _now_." 

             ***

            Damn. Scarlet had not expected _that._ Of all the potential reactions, that had to be the least likely to ever happen. And what was worse, Hailey's sudden declaration for Scarlet's side was eroding the fanaticism of some of the die-hards, causing them to doubt that Scarlet was the leader they'd been looking for. 

            And what was worse, it was causing the ever-so-slim neutral portion of the Grigori Amorati to declare for her opposition, increasing the odds that Scarlet might lose. And if she lost, she and her baby would not be able to escape. 

           Ah well. At least she had Harold by her side. Of all the unexpected things to have happened, she never would have predicted that they'd actually fall in love. Or, well, that he would love her and she would reciprocate. The only problem was, he was still mortal, so their children would be useless. 

          A state of affairs which, when she brought it up to Ares, seemed to offend him far more than she'd expected. 

          "Useless?!" Ares roared. "Useless?! Do you realize what you sound like?" 

          "Like a woman who understands the facts," Scarlet replied, utterly confused.

          "No," Ares growled. "You sound like the very people you've been trying to destroy this whole time. Or have you forgot in your rise to power?" 

           Ares gestured out to the balcony

           "Have you forgotten what these people do? They kidnap demigods- _my children_ , my lover's children-the children of _almost every single person in my family_ -and use them as part of some fucked-up experiment?" 

           "Come now," Scarlet chided as she took a sip of grape juice. "It's not like the alternative is any better. Would you rather they be homeless or dead?"

          "At least a homeless person has their freedom," Ares spat. "And a dead person has the chance to go to Elysium. Which is a far better fate than being locked up in a lab, being harvested for your sperm or eggs."

          Ares tossed his goblet over the balcony.

        "And as a matter of fact, there is a better place for demigods to go. It's called Camp Half-Blood, where we shelter them and  train them to fight the monsters that would otherwise kill them. And that's where I'm taking my child, once you've given birth." 

        Scarlet's eyes widened in horror. 

        "You-you can't!" 

        "Yes, I can. And I _will_. "

        With that, Ares disappeared. 

 *** 

      _My, this house is getting crowded_ , Mrs. La Rue thought to herself as she stared at the vast amount of cars parked in the driveway. _Used to be it was just  me, Tommy, and the girls._ _But now...Scarlet's got an entire army camped out here!_

         Indeed, _army_ was the only proper way to describe the massive influx of Scarlet's followers which had descended upon the La Rue mansion. Not just because of its size, but because of the massive amount of weaponry said guests had on their persons at all times. Then again, everyone was armed to the teeth these days, whether you were part of Scarlet's faction or not. 

      _Scarlet's faction_. What an oxymoron that was! It hadn't been so long ago that Scarlet had cared nothing for the Grigori Amorati's internal politics, preferring instead to run around and whore herself out to the entirety of Phoenix.

       And now... she was a major player! The _most_ major player, to be honest. She was, after all, carrying their savior in her womb. 

       Speaking of which, it was high time to buy some baby clothes. After all, they were expecting not one but _two_ little ones in the future.  A future which was only two months away! 

       Goodness, it seemed in the ensuing chaos over Scarlet's baby, everybody had been preparing for everything _but_ raising it! Between the stockpiling of weapons, the massive amount of weapons training Scarlet's faction embroiled themselves in, and the stockpiling of supply lines, one would think that they were expecting a war as opposed to a baby. 

       Well, that wasn't entirely true. Hailey _had_ put some effort into airing out the nursery and Scarlet had selected a cadre of those she trusted to be nannies from her inner circle, but aside from that, nobody else had done anything. No one had bothered to buy diapers or bottles or nursing supplies, no one had even so much as _started_ to think of baby names, and Scarlet had yet to so much as put herself in the general _vicinity_ of an obstetrician. 

      Well, if nobody else wanted to think of the practical side of things, then she guessed it was up to her to save the day. And with that, Mrs. La Rue got her keys, went into the garage, and started to look for her car. After a few minutes of being unable to find it, she eventually remembered that her car was at the auto shop being repaired. 

      Mrs. La Rue then went back, got Scarlet's keys, went over to Scarlet's car, got in, and started the engine. And upon doing so, the car immediately exploded, killing the poor woman instantly. 

 *** 

    Scarlet burst through the doors to the Grigori Amorati council chamber, carrying a metal gauntlet in her left hand, and a gun in her right hand.  her expression a mask of barely contained fury. 

    "You are interrupting a meeting-" the High Chancellor began, but Scarlet ignored him, instead turning to the Master of Ceremonies, who sat to the Chancellor's right. He appeared to be as equally shocked at this sudden development as the other five council members were, staring slack-jawed at the furious young woman. 

    "Tell me which of your little minions ordered that little hit on my mother, and I just might let you live," Scarlet roared.

    "Your...your _mother_?" the Master gulped. 

    "Yes, my mother, the one who died thanks to a bomb that you intended for me," Scarlet hissed. "Now, you have three seconds to divulge the name of whoever planted it there, or I pump you full of lead." 

    "M-miss,  I-I swear I didn't know-"

    "One!" 

     "It...it wasn't-" 

     "Two!" 

     "I'm telling you the-" 

     "Three!" 

      With that, Scarlet cocked the gun and aimed it at the Master of Ceremonies. 

       Just then,  however, the High Chancellor stood up and cried, 

      "It was me! I did it! I planted the bomb under your car!" 

       Everyone turned, open-mouthed, to the High Chancellor. 

       "I knew that war was brewing, and that it would cost us dearly, even if we did survive. I thought, if I could prevent the war before it started..." 

      "You thought wrong," Scarlet hissed, glowering venomously in his direction, as she shot a bullet through his head. 

      As soon as his corpse hit the ground, Scarlet glanced at everyone in the room, , and threw the metal gauntlet down on the table in front of them. 

      "You have _dared_ to come after my family, and in doing so, made a mistake you will come to regret for the rest of your lives, assuming I don't give end them all very painfully," Scarlet declared. "In killing my mother, you declared war upon us all. Now, pick your side: for if you are not with me, you are now officially against me." 

     The Treasurer and Keeper of the Bloodlines immediately got up and knelt before Scarlet. 

     "We are with you, my lady," the Keeper of the Bloodlines declared. "Long have I awaited the day when we might rise up against the mortal world."

      "And your mother was my dearest friend," the Treasurer added. 

      A wicked smile spread across Scarlet's face. 

     "Good," she said. She then turned to the Director of Acquisitions, and asked, 

     "And you? Where do you stand?" 

     "Not with you," he hissed. "You are nothing more than a jumped-up breeder using the miracle inside you for your own nefarious ends. I will never stand for that." 

      "Then I shall gladly watch as my little miracle rips your throat out," Scarlet replied. 

      She then turned to the kneeling Keeper and Treasurer and said, 

      "Come. There is work for you back at the mansion." 

 *** 

       "There never was a finer woman in all the world than my mother," Scarlet announced to the crowd of mourners, tears streaming down her face as she stood at the pulpit giving the eulogy. "There was no one more committed to our cause, no one more gentle, no one more patient, no one more understanding, then she was."

      They had borrowed the space from a Catholic church, giving a generous donation in exchange for the use of it. There was, of course, no priest, since this was a Grigori Amorati funeral; even the most apathetic members would've scoffed at the idea of a mortal priest. The only reason that they were even borrowing the space was because the Master of Ceremonies and his faction currently controlled the Grigori chapel at the main headquarters. 

        Scarlet wiped the tears from her face as she continued, 

       "Even when I was but the prodigal daughter, she still loved me. And when I became pregnant, she supported me to the bitter end. Even though she was a mortal, and not born to us, but adopted. My mother was nothing but selflessness, through and through." 

       Scarlet sniffled.

       "To...honor her,"  Scarlet said, taking a deep breath in, "I have decided to name my child after her. I went to the ob-gyn this week-something she'd been pressuring me to do for a while, and discovered that my beautiful baby was a girl. So-to preserve a little bit of the woman we all loved, I thought I would name her Clarisse, after the grandmother who will never get to meet her." 

      Scarlet then descended from the pulpit and walked back to the pew where Harold and Mr. La Rue were, sobbing uncontrollably. 

      Harold put an arm around Scarlet's shoulder as she sat down. 

      "There, there," he said as he soothingly stroked Scarlet's back. "It's all right." 

      Mr. La Rue swept Harold a contemptuous look. 

      "Shouldn't you be comforting your _wife_?" he scoffed. "You know, _Hailey_ , my _other_ daughter. The one who you used to be obsessed with." 

      Harold looked up at his father-in-law, and replied innocently, 

      "Oh. Yes. Well, I'm afraid she's not here. I...I don't know where she is, actually. Do you?" 

      Mr. La Rue's brow furrowed in concentration. 

      "Now that I think about it...I don't. Not really. I haven't seen her all day. Or yesterday, for that matter." 

      "She's in her room, prostrate with grief," Scarlet told them, staring down at the church floor. "She's been like that for the past week. And personally, I don't blame her." 

     

    But it was not merely grief that Hailey was prostrate with. Oh, no, there was a multitude of emotions swirling within Hailey as she lay face down on her bed sobbing. 

    "Go away," Hailey moaned as the secretary to the late High Chancellor knocked on her door. 

    The secretary, instead of paying attention to these words, slowly opened the door and walked in. 

    "Hailey, I'm sorry-" 

     Hailey sat up, turned to face the secretary, and glowered her with an angry look. 

     " _Sorry_ doesn't cut it," Hailey snapped. "You were _supposed_ to kill Scarlet. Instead you _missed_ and got my mother. How _could_ you?" 

     "I...I'm sorry," the secretary stammered. "I...I didn't mean to-" 

     "That doesn't matter!" Hailey cried. "My mother is _still dead..._ and Scarlet is still alive! And it's all your fault." 

      Hailey glanced at the door. 

      "Go before I have them arrest you." 

      The secretary nervously looked at Hailey, then at the door, before deciding to take Hailey's suggestion and leave. Once the secretary was gone, Hailey put a hand over her pregnant belly and whispered, 

      "Don't worry, Calantha. Soon, my sister and that little spawn of hers will be dead, and then everyone will come to their senses." 

 

     

       

     


	5. Up in Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet is winning the civil war. Ares decides she's gone too far. Hailey conspires to kill Scarlet and her baby. It doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: this chapter has a birth scene. It's not very gory, but the mother does end up dying in childbirth.

           "Report, soldier." 

            "We have retaken the Grigori Headquarters," the messenger informed Scarlet, "The Master of Ceremonies and his few remaining loyalists have fled to his home in New York City." 

            "Excellent," Scarlet purred as Harold rubbed her shoulders. "With this, we have control of almost all of the Grigori's resources."

           Scarlet turned back to the messenger and nodded .

           "You are dismissed." 

           Scarlet turned back to the circle of generals who surrounded her in the council chamber. 

          "Today we have won a great victory," she announced proudly. "We have all but eradicated those traitors within the Grigori Amorati, and we have but one battle before we can begin the great work of remaking the world in our image. So relax, my generals, and let us celebrate, for you have worked hard these past few weeks, and it is your work which brought us here." 

            The generals stood up, saluted, and cried in unison. 

           "All hail the Regina Mater! All hail the Regina Mater!" 

            Scarlet couldn't help but smile at her new title as the general left to do her bidding. _Regina Mater_ -"Queen Mother" in English. It was what she was, wasn't she? She was the mother of their savior, and she currently ruled over the Grigori. And she loved it.

* * *

* * *

          "Now," Hailey said to the midwife as she held up vial of a faintly yellow liquid, "You are to inject this surreptitiously into Scarlet when she begins labor. This will ensure that the spawn inside of her is dead long before it comes out." 

         Berta, the midwife in charge of Scarlet's birth, Hailey had discovered to her delight, was secretly a member of the old guard. This had enabled Hailey to come up with a new plan-and in her mind, a better plan. 

          "Where did you find such a thing?" Berta gasped, staring at the vial in awe.

          "It doesn't matter," Hailey insisted, putting the vial down on the medical tray. She withdrew another vial from her purse, the liquid in it foggy but colorless. 

          "Now this," Hailey continued, "Is amniotic fluid. You inject this right into her bloodstream, which will cause her to have an amniotic fluid embolism and die. Do you get that?"

         Berta nodded. 

         "Inject the yellow liquid when she begins labor, then inject the amniotic fluid." 

         Hailey smiled wickedly. 

         "Perfect." 

* * *

* * *

            "So," Ares murmured as he glanced at a sleeping Harold, "That's your new lover, eh? If I were you I would have gone with arm candy that doesn't look like a IRS agent." 

            Scarlet glanced down at her boyfriend and brother-in-law. He was indeed, objectively plain in facial features, and his reedy body would hardly get him called Sexiest Man Alive. But he had his virtues-a surprising number of them. Indeed, Scarlet had found that when fed a little affection-albeit _fake_ affection-Harold could be a surprisingly supportive, attentive, and generous boyfriend. So much so that little by little, Scarlet's fake affections had become quite real. 

          But Scarlet, Regina Mater, who had slept with a god, and was currently carrying a demigod messiah in her womb, was far too proud to admit to loving an un-extraordinary mortal like Harold. And this would end up being her doom. 

         "He has his uses," Scarlet said nonchalantly.

         "Child siring not being one of them, of course," Ares said pointedly. "Have you spoken to him about that?" 

         Scarlet's eyes widened. No. She hadn't. In all the excitement, in all their victories over the loyalists, Scarlet had completely forgotten to tell him. 

        "And so when are you planning on running away? Before or after you crush the last of your opponents into the dust?" 

        "Run away?" Scarlet cried. "Why? Your daughter is going to rule the _world_!" 

        "Except that wasn't the original plan," Ares hissed. " You were supposed to pit two factions against each other in a civil war and then escape in the chaos. Not stage a successful coup!" 

        "But this is _better_ ," Scarlet insisted. 

        "How?" Ares spat. "How is the world being ruled by eugenics-obsessed kidnappers who use kids like your daughter as guinea pigs any better than the way things are _now_?" 

         Scarlet's jaw dropped. 

        "I....I..." 

        "Never mind," Ares said, shaking his head. "It's clear that you've long since lost sight of reality. I know what I have to do now."

          And it wouldn't be pretty. But then again, very little of Ares's job was pretty.  

* * *

* * *

          It was time. Scarlet had gone into active labor. Now, all Hailey needed to do was wait. 

         Hailey couldn't help but smile as she escorted her older sister to the birthing room. The smile quickly faded, however, as she saw that her friend the midwife was absent. And that in her place was a perky middle-aged woman with red hair Hailey had never seen before. 

         "Who...are you?" Scarlet demanded as Harold eased her onto the bed. 

         "Oh, I'm Mary," the blond woman said. "I'm a friend of Berta's. I'm here because Berta couldn't make it today. She's out with the flu." 

        Out with the flu...and what was worse, Hailey could not see either of the vials in Mary's medical bag. But before she had time to ponder, she felt it-the mild contractions giving way to vastly stronger, more regular. Active labor. 

        "I...Harold, she's coming," Hailey cried. "The baby...she's coming." 

        A panic-stricken Harold glanced at Scarlet, and then back at his wife, unsure what to do,

        "Escort your wife to the other birthing room, please," Mary told Harold. "Berta's assistant will be with you shortly." 

        Harold reluctantly escorted Hailey out of the room and into the other birthing room, the one Hailey had arranged for herself. Harold put her on the bed, and then immediately high-tailed it out of there, leaving Hailey alone with a frail-looking blond woman. Alone with nothing but the assistant's nervous supervision to get her through the next eight hours. Hours which were increasingly filled with more and more agony, until-

         "I can't stand it anymore," Hailey croaked,weak dripping with sweat, "I need pain medicine." 

         The blond woman, rather than protest, injected something into Hailey that she couldn't see. The blond woman then looked between Hailey's legs and informed her: 

         "It's time to push." 

         And so Hailey pushed, pushed at the urging of Berta's assistant, until at last a crying, tiny little baby came out. The assistant quickly cut the cord, and then proudly announced: 

         "It's a girl, miss." 

         "I knew that already," Hailey said curtly, flopping down in exhaustion. "Hand her to me. Hand my little girl to me." 

         The woman handed the baby to Hailey and then began to put everything back in her medical bag. 

         "Oh, my beautiful baby Calantha," Hailey crooned to her newborn daughter. "You're here. And you're perfect."

         "Right," the woman said as she packed up her medical bag. "I'd better inform your husband that the baby is here." 

         Just as Berta's assistant was about to leave, however, a burst of pain swelled up in Hailey's chest, causing her to cry out and almost crush her daughter. 

        "Goodness!" the blond woman cried. "Are you alright?"

         "I...I..." Hailey began, suddenly feeling very short of breath. As the doctor removed baby Calantha and put her on a tray, Hailey coughed up what appeared to be a pink, frothy goo onto her arm. 

         "Oh," the blond woman gasped. "That's not good."

        The blond woman rushed towards the door and called out, "Nurse! I need a nurse in here!" 

        No one, of course, heard the blond woman's pleas. 

        Hailey glanced absentmindedly at the medical bag and realized, to her horror, that the vial for the amniotic fluid was in it. And that it was _empty_. 

        The blond woman, sensing that no help would arrive, turned back to Hailey and asked, 

        "Is there a medical doctor anywhere on the premises? Because I think you might be having-" 

        "An amniotic fluid embolism, I know," Hailey finished, coughing out more pink goo. 

        The blond woman stared at her in horror. 

        "How did you-" 

        "Because that's how I planned to kill my sister," Hailey confessed.

        "You...you..."

       Just then, Hailey felt her heart begin to give out. 

       "Look, there isn't much time," she wheezed. "I'll be dead soon. T-tell my husband and sister they can fuck right off. That I don't care what they do, that they can get married and make a hundred babies for all I care." 

      "Don't be silly," Berta's assistant cried. "We have to call 911-get you into the ICU-" 

      "Not...enough time...my heart...it's-"

      Hailey coughed up more pink goo, and then held tight to the blond woman's arm.

     "But also tell them that-that they are not to touch Calantha," Hailey insisted. "She is my daughter and they have no right. She is instead to be raised by her grandfather.... _my_ father." 

     Berta's assistant nodded. 

    "Anything else?" 

     "Yes," Hailey croaked. "Tell my daughter- write this down, so she can read it later-"

     The blond woman hastily got out a pen and paper and announced she was ready to take dictation, 

     "Tell Calantha-" Hailey continued, "That I love her. And that...I'm sorry I couldn't be with her, and-" 

      Hailey would not get to finish, however, for just then she coughed up her last bit of goo, then fell back upon the bed and was no more. 

     The blond woman checked Hailey's pulse and, seeing that it was not there, quickly scribbled a "Dear Calantha," and a "From, Your Mother" on the top and bottom of the note, and then folded it up in her pocket. She then wheeled the poor motherless Calantha into the ascribed nursery, and once that was accomplished, set out to find Harold and inform him he was now a widower. 

     After asking around she found out that he was in Scarlet's birthing room, and, wondering why he'd attend his sister-in-law's birth but not his wife, made her way over to it. There she found an exhausted but happy Scarlet, who was calling out instructions to Mary, who was wheeling a healthy baby out of the room, and Harold himself, who was staring at Scarlet with a fondness that puzzled the midwife's assistant. 

       Berta's assistant, utterly loathe to break such unhappy news, cast her eyes down and said sadly, 

      "Mr. Hathaway, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your...your wife...she...she died right after giving birth."

      Scarlet, for her part, gasped in horror.

      "Oh, no!"

    Harold, however, merely asked coldly: 

      "Is the baby alright?" 

     "Y-yes," Berta's assistant replied. "You...you have a healthy baby girl named Calantha." 

     "Oh, good," Harold replied. "That's one less funeral to worry about." 

     "Did...did she say anything?" Scarlet asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "Before she died?" 

     "Um...yes," the assistant answered. "She...said that she didn't care what you and Mr. Hathaway did-that you could get married and have a hundred babies for all she cared." 

     A guilty look came across Scarlet's face. 

     "Is...that it?" 

     "Well," the assistant added, "She did mention that she wanted her to daughter to be raised by her maternal grandfather. And also-" 

     "No," Harold cried. "The child is mine, I will raise it!"

     "But Harold," Scarlet said, half sobbing, "We really should respect Hailey's wishes-" 

     "Nonsense! The council awarded me the right to raise the girl, and I'm taking what's rightfully mine." 

      Scarlet's eyes widened in what appeared to the assistant to be horror. 

      "Do you care _nothing_ for Hailey?" she gasped. 

      "No, of course not," Harold replied nonchalantly, pushing up his glasses without a single care. "I haven't since she confessed her desire to be sterilized." 

      "She was your _wife_!" Scarlet cried, utterly shocked by this development. "You used to be obsessed with her!" 

      "And I was a fool to be so," Harold insisted. "In my infatuation, I failed to see the true depths of her depravity. She _deserved_ to die for her crimes." 

      It was at this moment, upon hearing Harold speak of Hailey's quite understandable desire for reproductive freedom as a "crime", that all of Scarlet's illusions regarding her new lover were completely shattered. For the first time, she began to wonder about the true nature of Harold's affection for her. For it did not, Scarlet realized, seem at all genuinely rooted in who she was as a person. Nor had his love for Hailey, for that matter. 

      After all, when had the affair begun? At his wedding, right after Hailey confessed to planning on sterilization. Before that, he'd been glued to Hailey's side, utterly devoted to her, never even dreaming of cheating. But the moment Hailey rebelled, even accidentally, against the Grigori Amorati ideal of womanhood, Harold's love disappeared. 

      And meanwhile, Scarlet, despite her scheming, despite all her grasping for power, had somehow, ironically, unintentionally, put herself _more_ in line with the Grigori ideal, what with her dutiful mother schtick and her obsession with leading the cult to glory. 

      It was plain as day: Harold did not love her for who she was. He did not love Scarlet for her ambition, her leadership skills, or her willingness to take risks, oh no. No, he loved her because he saw her as some ideal woman according to what the cult had taught him. And if Scarlet, ever, even by accident, revealed her true nature, his love for her would disappear just as quickly as his love for Hailey had. 

      "And besides, we can finally get married now," Harold pointed. "Raise our children together, be happy."

      Scarlet gulped. She wasn't entirely sure now that she wanted to marry a man who thought so little of the women in his life. And certainly not one who was so blase about the death of his wife. Of her _sister_ , to boot. 

      For while Scarlet was a selfish, self-absorbed woman who was perfectly willing to manipulate her family to her own ends, and while she had hoped to be able to annul Hailey's marriage to Harold at some point, she had never, not once, wished for her sister's death. And the fact that Harold could bring up the possibility of remarriage not five seconds after learning that his wife was dead sickened Scarlet to her core. 

* * *

* * *

          "Today, my fellow Grigori, we gather to mourn the death of one of our finest," Scarlet announced in front of the gathered crowd, half-sobbing as she did. "None other than my sister, Hailey Hathaway."

         Ares could not help but roll his eyes as he observed the group of cultists gathered around Hailey's coffin. If Scarlet had known half of what Hailey had wanted to do- as Ares now did from going through her things-he doubted the eulogy would be half so complimentary. 

        Scarlet droned on, talking about how wonderful Hailey was, how despite their differences, she had remained loyal to the cause, how her passing was an absolute tragedy. And shockingly, she appeared to mean every word. 

        Perhaps she wasn't as far gone as Ares had thought. But regardless, Scarlet was still far too gone for anyone's good. Especially Clarisse's. 

        Gods, he'd only needed to look at her once to immediately fall in love with her. His daughter. His darling little daughter. 

       Hailey's coffin was lowered into the the ground, and the pallbearers immediately started shoveling dirt all over it. 

       Then, just as the crowd of mourners began to disperse, a messenger ran up to Scarlet, a horrified look on his face.

       "Regina Mater," the messenger panted, "I...I...have terrible news. Uh...bombs...somebody...planted bombs at every single one of the properties we've retaken from the loyalists. All of which have gone off, killing...everyone stationed at each of the buildings. Aside from me, there are...no survivors."

       Scarlet gasped.

       "What?" she cried, thoroughly outraged. "Who did this? How...how is this possible? The loyalists...they're in New York City." 

       The messenger shook his head. 

       "I don't know," he replied. "But you need to get in my car-you and your family-for your own safety." 

       Scarlet glowered at the messenger. 

       "Why?" 

      "Because," the messenger gasped. "There's a bomb right here at the headquarters too. And it's about to go off any minute now." 

      Scarlet's widened, partially in horror, and also, possibly in realization. 

      "Regina Mater," the messenger insisted, " We will take revenge on those loyalists, I swear. But right now-" 

      "No," Scarlet gasped. "It's not the loyalists who did this. It's-" 

      Scarlet glanced in his direction, as if suddenly realizing that he was there. 

      _That's right_ , Ares thought with a smirk. _It was me._ I _destroyed your little cult._

      Scarlet turned to Harold and demanded, 

      "Grab Calantha and my dad and meet me in the car." 

       Harold obediently complied, and soon grandfather, children, and couple were all loaded into Harold's car, as Scarlet immediately keyed up the engines, floored the accelerator, and began speeding away from the Grigori headquarters like lightning. 

      Once his daughter was a safe distance away, Ares then commanded the bomb to go off, killing the very last of Scarlet's faction in one glorious explosion. The graves, of course, were encased in a protective bubble protecting them from the blast-disgusting as they might be, the dead interred withing were still dead, and it was wrong to desecrate their graves. 

     Now all he needed to do was locate the home of the Master of Ceremonies...

* * *

* * *

       "What are we going to do?" Mr. La Rue asked as the car sped on towards Phoenix. 

       "Well," Scarlet said, "All of the cult's property was destroyed, so we don't exactly have anywhere to call home, so to speak. We do, however, still have the La Rue fortune. And, presumably, the Hathaway fortune also. But those won't last us forever. We'll need to start looking up jobs eventually." 

      "We?" Harold cried. "You are a woman, you have no place in the workforce!" 

      Scarlet sighed. 

      "Fine," she conceded. " _You_ need to look up jobs. I will stay home with Calantha and Clarisse. But regardless of who's working, we need to start buying a new home, and quick. We also need baby supplies, food, clothes, toiletries, lodgings for the night-oh, gods, our fortunes aren't going to last very long, are they?" 

       "I...I...don't know," Harold stammered, utterly dismayed by Scarlet's take-charge attitude. 

      "Well, that's a long way off, hopefully," Scarlet said. "Right now, once we find a hotel to camp in, I need to pray for Ares's forgiveness, so he won't try to kill us."

* * *

* * *

       


	6. Three Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold, Scarlet, Clarisse, Calantha, and Mr. La Rue have settled into a family life in a townhouse. Scarlet and Harold have a baby girl together.

           "Where's Mommy going?" Clarisse asked as Harold ushered a heavily pregnant Scarlet into the car.

           "The hospital," her grandfather said tersely. "Now get back inside." 

           Clarisse obediently allowed her grandfather to usher her back into the townhouse, utterly confused. 

            "Why? Is she sick?" Clarisse asked.

            "No," Calantha said behind her. "She's gonna have the baby. And then after she's going to kick me out." 

            Grandfather's jaw dropped. 

            "Kick you out? Where did you hear that?" he cried. 

            "Daddy told me,"  Calantha replied as their grandfather shut the door behind them. "He said that he has no use for me now that the baby's born." 

            Grandfather's face went red with rage.

            "That's absurd! How...how dare he?" 

             Calantha shook her head sadly. 

             "He said he's the man of the house, so he has every right to kick me out," Calantha explained. 

             "He is not the only man in this house," Grandfather thundered. "Just wait till he comes home, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. How dare he-" 

            With that, Grandfather stormed off in a blind fury. 

            "For what its worth," Clarisse said as she extended a hand to Calantha, "I still need you." 

            Tears of happiness welled up in Calantha's eyes. 

            "You do?" she cried. 

           "Of course," Clarisse replied as she embraced Calantha. "You're my sister. I'll always need you." 

           

             Two days later, Scarlet and Harold Hathaway came back from the hospital, exhausted but happy. 

             "Calantha! Clarisse!" Scarlet called out as she sat down on the couch holding a newborn baby, "Come meet your new sister Naomi!" 

             Clarisse eagerly ran up to inspect the tiny bundle of human in her mother's arms, while Calantha hung back nervously, not quite sure she wanted to meet her replacement. 

            As Clarisse inspected little Naomi Hathaway, however, she couldn't help but notice Harold glaring down at her, as if she was little more than dirt.

            "Did I do something wrong, Daddy?" she asked, utterly confused. He had always looked at her with nothing but love before; why did he hate her now. 

           "No, darling, of course not," Scarlet assured Clarisse. 

           Scarlet turned towards Harold, a look of concern in her eyes. 

           "Is there something wrong, Harold?" she asked. 

           Harold blinked, and then shook his head. 

           "No, no," he replied, "Of course not." 

           What neither Scarlet nor Clarisse realized, of course, was that Harold had never really loved Clarisse, but tolerated her. When the Grigori Amorati was still around, Clarisse had been expected to rule the world, so he'd had no choice but to accept her existence. When the cult was destroyed, however, so was Clarisse's status as Messiah. 

         Thus, after he and Scarlet married, he tolerated Clarisse because while she wasn't his child, she was _Scarlet's_ child, which made her infinitely worth more to him than Calantha, who, while his, was also merely _Hailey's_ child. 

        But now that he _and_ Scarlet had a daughter together, Harold had no need of either Clarisse _or_ Calantha. They were, in his mind, effectively dead weight. Naomi was the fulfillment of everything he wanted; whereas Clarisse was merely a reminder now that he hadn't always had Scarlet for himself. And as for Calantha? Well, she was an obligation he'd stupidly attached himself to in his blind lust for a woman who- in his mind- was a total hussy. 

       It was a selfishly patriarchal attitude, one which would lead to nothing but pain. 


	7. Sisterhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarisse and Calantha are seven years old.

         "I think I know why Daddy hates us so much," Calantha whispered as she and Clarisse lay in their beds that night. 

          " _Really_?" Clarisse said, pulling the blankets closer to her to block out the cold. 

          Shortly after they'd come home with Naomi, Harold had commandeered the girls' bedroom and insisted on remaking it into a nursery.

          Scarlet had, of course, protested this, saying that there was no good reason Naomi couldn't sleep in their room. 

         "And besides,"  she'd added, "If we waste space trying to create a nursery, where are the girls going to sleep?"

         "We have a perfectly good basement we're not using," Harold said nonchalantly.

         "The basement? But...it has no heat! How..."

         Harold then gave Scarlet a stern look, one that said _Be grateful I haven't simply kicked them to the curb_. And Scarlet, knowing full well that Clarisse's welfare depended upon Harold perceiving Scarlet in a favorable light, immediately caved to his will. 

        Thus the girls were shunted to the basement, which, chilly as it was, and with only a few bare bulbs for lighting, had nontheless served as their bedroom for the past four years since Naomi's arrival into the world.

        "Tell me!" Clarisse insisted. "Why does he hate us?" 

        "I overheard them talking," Calantha explained. "And they said that you weren't really Daddy's kid...that Daddy wasn't...well... _your_ daddy."

        "What?" Clarisse gasped. "That's-well then, who is my daddy?" 

        Calantha shook her head. 

        "I don't know," she said. "They didn't say." 

       "Is Daddy _your_ daddy, at least?" Clarisse asked.

        "Yes. He is. But...Mommy isn't... _my_ mommy," Calantha said. "Apparently my real mommy is your mommy's sister Hailey. " 

       Clarisse's eyes widened in shock. 

       "Really? Where...where is your mommy, then?" 

       "Dead," Calantha replied. "Your mommy said she's dead." 

       "Oh," Clarisse replied. "I'm sorry." 

       "It's fine," Calantha assured her. 

       An awkward silence passed between them, until Clarisse finally said: 

       "So...if _your_ daddy isn't _my_ daddy...and _your_ mommy is _my_ mommy's _sister_...then that means...we're not really sisters, are we? We're just cousins." 

        Clarisse stared up at the exposed beams in the ceiling and added, 

        "My only real sister is Naomi. And your only real sister, to, since your daddy's her daddy as well as my mommy being her mommy." 

        Neither Clarisse nor Calantha were particularly fond of the four-year-old girl in question, since she deprived Calantha of any and all parental affection, and Clarisse of Scarlet's affection when they were in front of Harold. 

       "No, we are sisters," Calantha insisted, holding out her hand. 

       "How?" Clarisse asked bitterly. "We don't share a mommy _or_ a daddy." 

       "You know Cinderella? And the stepsisters? Well, I learned today that a stepsister is the daughter of somebody your mommy or daddy is married to, but who isn't your mommy or daddy. Since your mommy is married to my daddy, that makes us stepsisters." 

        Clarissed pouted.

      "So we're related in the same way Cinderella is to nasty people who make her do the chores?" 

       "Well, yes," Calantha replied. "But we're also sisters because we've always been sisters. In here." 

        Calantha tapped her chest. 

        "And in here, we'll always be sisters," she said. "No matter what." 

         "Really?" 

         "Really." 

* * *

* * *

         "The girls _need_ to be sent to school," Clarisse heard Grandfather insist loudly in the dining room. 

         Hidden behind the door to the basement, she could hear everything and anything the grownups were fighting about. But they, of course, could not see her, since they were too wrapped up in their argument to notice. 

        "Why?" Harold demanded. "Scarlet can teach them anything they need to know at home." 

        "Yes, she can teach them to read and write, and do basic math," Grandfather replied, "But can she teach them anything that could get them a job?" 

       "They're seven!" Harold cried. "They can't get a job in the first place! And besides, it's traditional for Grigori mothers to educate the children at home." 

       "There _isn't_ a Grigori Amorati anymore!" Grandfather roared. "We are the _only_ ones who survived! I thought by now you'd given up on that nonsense by now-why else would you have that ridiculous career as a lawyer?" 

        "It's not ridiculous," Harold protested. "It pays the bills." 

        "You got the job by manipulating the Mist to trick your employer into thinking you have a law degree," Grandfather pointed out. "Since you obviously don't, it _is_ ridiculous." 

       Grigori Amorati? Mist? What on earth were they talking about? 

* * *

* * *

           Scarlet had needed to go grocery shopping, so Mr. La Rue decided to take the girls to the zoo while she did that.

          Gods and angels knew, the woman could use a break from child-rearing, he thought to himself as he drove them. Scarlet's every waking moment was spent on the girls; giving them their school lessons,  cooking food for them, supervising them when they played-and when she wasn't doing that, she was making sure the house maintained Harold's absurd standards of cleanliness. She was a far cry from the woman she'd once been, in her jean overalls and choppy chestnut-colored bob, waiting on a mortal man hand and foot. 

          And heaven _knew_ Harold would never take responsibility for his children, not for a single second. The man took a perverse sort of pride in how little time he spent with his daughters. He was "the man of the house", he said, and therefore the dirty work of child-rearing was beneath him. The fact that Scarlet was exhausted, of course, appeared to be far less important than his own masculine pride.

        Well, the girls needed a father-figure in their lives, and Harold wasn't going to do it, then Mr. La Rue had no choice but to step in for him. Not that it was much of a chore-he loved his granddaughters fiercely, and relished each hour he spent with them. 

* * *

* * *

         "The zoo!" Calantha whispered excitedly to Clarisse as they sat in the car together. "Can you believe it? We're going to the zoo." 

         "So is Naomi," Clarisse grumbled, glancing at the shotgun seat, where her hated half-sister sat. Calantha had explained that siblings who only shared one parent were called half-siblings. A concept which both could not help but love to apply to Naomi. As she didn't feel much like their sister, it made sense to only think of her as _half_ a sister. 

         "Yeah, but we never go _anywhere_ ," Calantha pointed out, her hazel eyes lighting up with eagerness. "Unless it's the grocery store or the farmer's market, but those are boring." 

         It was true. The girls had spent most of their short existence confined to the townhouse, which, albeit, was no longer a townhouse, but a fully-fledged suburban home in its own right, thanks to Scarlet and Harold's efforts. Harold was adamant that this be so. If Scarlet suggested taking them to the park, Harold would ask if the yard wasn't good enough. If Scarlet wanted to take them to the library, Harold would say that Grandfather could check books out for them, no trip necessary. And he absolutely refused to let any of them go to school-not even _precious Naomi_ was allowed to so much as go to daycare or preschool. 

         And when Calantha had made friends with one of the neighbor's kids, Olive...Harold had taken off his belt and whipped her with it so hard he'd drawn blood. A fair amount, too.

         "Don't. You. Ever. Fraternize. With. Outsiders. Again!" he'd roared as Calantha sobbed across his knees. 

         When Grandfather saw it, of course, he'd put a stop to it immediately. By then it was too late, though; the damage was done. 

        Therefore, this zoo trip was a real treat. Even if Naomi did have to come with them. 

        And indeed, it was a golden afternoon. They first took the Children's Trail, where they saw emus, siamang gibbons, golden-mantled tamarins, an ocelot, and a caracal. The girls then were guided afterwards to the petting zoo, where they petted many adorable farm animals and were led through a fascinating series of lessons about agriculture. After that they then went on the Tropics Trail, where they saw a great many tropical birds in the "Tropical Flights" aviary, Bornean orangtuans, squirrel monkeys, Komodo dragons, jaguars, iguanas, anteaters, Sumatran tigers, and two species of tortoise. 

       After the Tropics Trail they took a short break for ice cream. Calantha ordered mint chocolate chip, Naomi ordered strawberry, and Clarisse ordered cookies and cream. Grandfather, for his part, ordered vanilla. After they ordered they sat down and slowly ate, savoring each bite-having never gone out to eat ice cream before, the girls treasured the experience. 

        As the sun shone through Calantha's light blond hair, Clarisse couldn't help but ask herself: 

          _Could this day get any better?_

       As a matter of fact, it could, for after the ice cream break was the Arizona trail, where they would then get to see coyotes, collared peccaries, cougars, bobcats, coatis, Mexican wolves-which Clarisse was surprised to learn were different from normal wolves-Sonoran pronghorns, thick billed parrots, and, most notably for Clarisse, turkey vultures. 

       When they got to the turkey vulture exhibit, Clarisse, much to her surprise, could hear them, somewhat in her head, excitedly saying things like: 

        _Hello,_ _Little mistress!  Hello, Little mistress!_

       "Little...mistress?" Clarisse asked the vultures. "What do you mean by that?"

       One vulture, who appeared to be the chief of them, flew up to Clarisse and explained:

 _Your father is our lord_. _So that makes you our little mistress._

        Clarisse's brow furrowed in confusion.

      "My...father is lord of the zoo vultures?" 

      _No, of_ all _the vultures_ , the chief vulture explained. _Everywhere in the world. From here all the way to the edge of the earth._

      "Wow!" Clarisse breathed. "That's amazing!" 

      "Grandpa, Clare-Clare's talking to the birds!" Naomi tattled behind Clarisse. 

       Clarisse turned to glare at the nightmare with little blond pigtails, who was currently pointing at Clarisse as she tattled. 

      "Oh, let her be, Naomi," Grandfather gently chastised. "There's no harm in it, is there?" 

       After the Arizona trail was over, the sun at last set and they had to drive back home. Where Harold had learned about the zoo trip. And was, naturally, not pleased. 

      "How dare you?" Harold roared at Grandfather the following evening as they went in the house. "How dare you take them out without my permission?" 

       Grandfather, rather than flinch, or backpedal and try to pacify him like Scarlet, simply looked Harold in the eye and said: 

       "I don't need your permission to do anything with my granddaughters. And neither does Scarlet. And by the gods, _somebody_ has to parent your children when Scarlet is busy, and if you won't do it, then so help me, _I will_." 

      "How dare you accuse me of being a negligent father!" Harold roared. 

      "Two of your children sleep in an unheated, barely ventilated basement with no air-conditioning system to speak of," Grandfather pointed out nonchalantly. "You insist that your children be home-schooled, yet your involvement in their education is _nonexistent._ Hell, you admitted to me the other day that you didn't know if Naomi could read yet!" 

      "Father, please-" Scarlet moaned from the kitchen.

      "When Naomi was born, you did not so much as bother to find a sitter for Clarisse and Calantha-I had to cancel a date so I could watch over them," Grandfather continued, unmoved by Scarlet's plea. "Oh, and when they were babies you were always dismantling the baby gates because they were 'inconvenient' for you-regardless of how it impacted the safety of your children." 

      "Father!" Scarlet cried. 

      "I could go on and on," Grandfather said. "But suffice it to say, "negligent" is far too generous a descriptor of your parenting, Mr. Hathaway." 

      Harold bristled. 

      "How-you- I am the man of the house, not you!" 

      "I'm not my daughter," Grandfather snapped. "You can't pull that 'man of the house' crap on me! I can't be cowed by your little threats. Now, you will let me do as I please, or I will tell Clarisse's _real_ father how you've been treating her and her mother. And then we'll see how being 'man of the house' helps you then." 

     Harold's jaw dropped. 

     "You're...you're bluffing!" he cried. "You...you couldn't possibly-" 

     "Oh, I am not bluffing," Grandfather assured him. "A captured demigod taught me the secret of Iris messages a long time ago. The components of which are surprisingly simple; all I need is this-" 

      Grandfather withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket.

      "And the garden hose outside, and soon this will all be over." 

      Grandfather then took a couple of slow, menacing steps back towards the door, glaring at Harold the whole way. 

      Gulping down his fear, Harold eventually relented: 

      "Okay! You can take them to the zoo as much as you want!" 

      Grandfather froze. 

     "And?" 

     "And any other place you desire," Harold sighed. 

     Grandfather put the money away and smiled. 

     "Good. I'm glad we cleared that up." 


	8. Media Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold does a good deed; Mr. La Rue decides enough is enough. Gleeson Hedge catches wind of it via the paper.

         It was the eve of Clarisse and Calantha's ninth birthday, but nobody cared. In fact, they were currently spending their birthday locked up in the basement while Harold held a dinner party for himself and his guests. 

        In all fairness, the dinner party was celebrating something very important; Harold had just helped expose a corrupt judge's misdeeds to the press. However, Scarlet couldn't help but think it was rather unfair of her husband to schedule the dinner party on the girls' birthday.

       So, when no one was looking, she snuck two cupcakes down to the basement, each with their own tiny little number 9 candle on them, alongside a lighter. Once there, she lit the candles, gave each girl a cupcake, and softly sang them "Happy Birthday". 

         The girls then blew out their cupcakes, and Scarlet silently clapped. 

         "Happy birthday, my darling daughter," Scarlet said, kissing Clarisse's forehead. She then glanced at Calantha. 

         "Happy birthday, my little niece." 

         And with that, Scarlet went back upstairs to the party. 

         "Some birthday this is," Calantha complained as she ate her cupcake. " _Last_ year we got to have it up in the kitchen. And we had an actual cake." 

        "A _terrible_ cake," Clarisse pointed out, savoring her cupcake. "It didn't even have any sugar." 

         "It was still a _cake_ ," Calantha countered. " Like they have on TV." 

         "And you also got smacked by Harold when you said you didn't like it," Clarisse said. "I'd rather have a nice cupcake than bad cake and a smack to the face." 

         "Naomi's never had to have her birthday in the basement," Calantha whined. "And she gets cake all the time. Good cake, too. And presents." 

        Clarisse rolled her eyes. 

         "Naomi's _also_ never been hit by Harold," she said. "Or been called 'the bastard'. Or 'my kid with _her_.' We're never going to get _anything_ Naomi gets." 

         "But we _should_ ," Calantha protested. "It's not fair."

* * *

* * *

          Mr. La Rue could not help but find Harold's little self-congratulatory dinner party  the height of hypocrisy, since Harold himself had attained his own job entirely through deceit, aided with the teeniest bit of Mist manipulation. 

        Fortunately for Mr. La Rue, however, Harold had not invited him to the little party. In fact, Harold had explicitly ordered Mr. La Rue to stay as far away as possible. Which was fine with Mr. La Rue: for he had some very important business to attend to. 

       Business, namely, with the police.

      "I'd like to file a report," he told the receptionist. "Of charges of child abuse committed by one Harold Hathaway, attorney at law."

* * *

* * *

         "Where's Harold?" Clarisse asked as she and Calantha sat down to the breakfast table. 

         "He's with the police, honey," Scarlet explained, nervously serving each of them pancakes. "He's been arrested." 

         "Why?"

         Scarlet glared at Grandfather. 

         "Ask _him_." 

       Grandfather merely stared at Scarlet unflinchingly.

       "He beats Calantha like a ragdoll when the mood takes him," he said. 

        When this failed to get a response from Scarlet, he added,

        "And Clarisse too, when you're not looking." 

       Scarlet gasped, dropping the spatula in horror. 

        "No. It can't be." 

       "Clarisse, show her." 

       Clarisse obediently lifted her shirt to reveal the latest bruise marks on her back. 

       "Everything I've done is for nothing," Scarlet murmured, rubbing her temples. "I thought I was protecting her, but...all I was doing was giving him the freedom to do whatever he wanted." 

       Scarlet immediately went to Clarisse and hugged her. 

       "I'm so sorry," she said. "I can't believe I let him hurt you. It won't happen again, " 

* * *

* * *

          **WHISTLEBLOWER SECRETLY A CHILD ABUSER** , read the headline in _The Arizona Republic._ The article beneath said headline was a lurid story about the gruesome things one Harold Hathaway, attorney at law and famed anti-corruption advocate, did to his two little girls. 

           Well, as the saying went, never meet your heroes. Not that Harold Hathaway had ever been Gleeson Hedge's hero; he'd barely even heard of the guy before he was assigned to Phoenix. The only reason the satyr was even interested was because something felt achingly familiar about this Mr. Hathaway and his children. Hedge couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could've sworn he'd seen or smelled them before. Making matters worse was the fact that his gut was telling them something was very important about the two girls in question, and his mind had yet to put a finger to the reason why. 

        


	9. Served!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet makes plans to divorce Harold. Hedge makes his move.

       "So...we're not taking Naomi with us?" Calantha asked as Grandfather loaded the trunk of his car with their things. Scarlet of course, did not own one of her own; that would have given her too much independence for Harold's liking. 

      "Oh, gods, no," Scarlet said with a bitter laugh. "Harold can _keep_ her." 

      "But...she's your daughter," Calantha gasped, open-mouthed at the implication. 

      "Who I had because Harold _insisted_ ," Scarlet told her. "I already had all the kids I wanted with you and Clarisse, but he insisted. He wanted a baby that was his and mine _together_ , and I gave him one to make him happy. And he was, but it came at the cost of making Clarisse miserable.  And then he dumped all the work of parenting his precious Naomi on _me_. The way I see it, if he really loves her so much, maybe he ought to take some gods-damned responsibility for her for once."

      This little monologue, this blatant hatred against her younger sister, shocked Calantha to her core. All Calantha's life, Naomi had been the precious sister, the sister who was worth infinitely more than her and Clarisse. Even Grandfather, the adult who'd most overtly cared about Calantha and Clarisse's well-being, hadn't hated Naomi.  To hear a parental figure speak of Naomi as if she were...unimportant, nay, almost...disposable... was rather jarring.

      Then again, so was the idea that Scarlet would actually... _leave_ Harold. As in, leave and _divorce_ him. Such a reaction to Harold's behavior, at least in Calantha's eyes, was completely out of character for Scarlet. Scarlet had never, in Calantha's experience, been so defiant of Harold before. Scarlet had always been the pliant housewife who acquiesced to his demands immediately, and whenever it did cross her mind to offer resistance to his plans, what little resistance she did offer quickly crumbled. 

       Boldly insisting they pack their things and leave this instant...and actually following through on it...that was beyond the Scarlet Calantha knew. 

       What on earth was happening? 

* * *

* * *

       Scarlet wasn't really leaving him. No way. 

       Sure, she might have had Calantha and Clarisse pack up everything they owned at the drop of a hat. She might have rented a couple of fancy hotel rooms for herself, Grandfather, Clarisse and Calantha. She might even be thumbing through the phone book right now for a divorce lawyer. But it wouldn't last. Just you wait; she'd be back home in no time, fixing dinner and apologizing on hand and knee to Harold for everything that had happened. 

      After all, she couldn't possibly leave precious, precious _Naomi_ for very long, could she? There was no way she'd trust that random grocery store clerk with her little girl for very long.   

      "How long do you think it'll take Mom to take us back?" Clarisse wondered out loud idly to Calantha. "A couple days? Or do you think we'll be back by dinner?" 

      Calantha shook her head. 

      "I don't know," she said. "I don't she's ever gonna take us back there."

      Clarisse rolled her eyes. 

      "Don't be stupid. You do realize this is the same woman who rolled over and let Harold do whatever he wanted, right?" 

      As much as Clarisse loved her mother, she just wasn't capable of denying the facts. And a hug and a promise gave her absolutely zero faith in the woman. 

     "Yes, but I think she means it," Calantha said. " _Really_ means it." 

      As if on cue, Scarlet then popped in to announce, 

      "Alright, I've got an appointment with the divorce lawyer for tomorrow morning. So, where do you want to go to lunch, Clarisse?" 

      An...appointment. With a lawyer. For divorce. Holy cow. Harold was not going to be pleased. 

*** 

      "So...Mrs. Hathaway," Attorney-at-Law Lakeisha Jones said, "Let me get this straight: you want to divorce your husband because he...was beating your daughters. Your oldest daughters, to be specific." 

      Scarlet nodded.

      "Yes

     The sharply-dressed African-American woman raised an eyebrow. 

     "And...you had no idea this was happening until your father had him arrested for child abuse?" 

     "Well...I knew he was beating Calantha," Scarlet admitted. "But not Clarisse. I didn't find out about that until after the arrest." 

     "Hmm. I see," Lakeisha replied grimly. "I'll be blunt, Mrs. Hathaway. The fact that you knew that one daughter was being abused yet didn't do anything until you found out it was happening to the other daughter too...that won't look good in court." 

       Lakeisha flipped through her notes. 

      "That, and the fact that you are willing to leave one of your daughters in the care of someone you know is an abuser, one who is currently facing criminal charges... the court will find that hypocritical at best, negligent at worst."  

     Scarlet shook her head. 

      "He won't touch Naomi," she insisted. "Trust me. I know." 

      Naomi was too precious to Harold for him to do otherwise. 

      "Let me guess...because he was so insistent on having her?" Lakeisha asked dryly. 

      Scarlet nodded. 

     "Yes," she replied. "Because she was mine _and_ his _together_. Whereas Clarisse has a different father, and Calantha a different mother." 

     "Pardon me, but if I'm not mistaken," Lakeisha pointed out, "He was just as enthusiastic about having Calantha with his previous wife, your sister, wasn't he? 

      "Y-es," Scarlet said, unsure of where the attorney was going with this. 

      "An enthusiasm which disappeared when your sister expressed a desire for reproductive agency," Lakeisha explained.

     "If the idea of your sister _controlling her own body_ was such a turn-off for him that he began cheating on her _at their wedding_ ,  I can only imagine how much of a bruise to your husband's ego leaving him would be. Judging by what you have told me about your husband so far, I fully believe his love for your youngest child will disappear the moment he learns you're divorcing him. " 

       Scarlet's jaw dropped. 

      "Oh. Oh," she gasped. "What have I done?" 

      "So when it comes to custody, it therefore has to be all or nothing," Lakeisha told her. "The petition must demand full physical custody on your side for all three girls, with absolutely no visitation rights for your husband. It's drastic, but given the charges against your husband, anything less  might make the court decide that the girls would be better off as wards of the state." 

     "I...I...see." 

    "The good news is, the courts are incredibly biased towards mothers when it comes to custody," Lakeisha added. "And with the charges against your husband, it's _extremely_ unlikely he'll get any type of custody." 

       Scarlet smiled weakly. 

       "Good," she said. "Because I don't want him laying eyes on my daughter ever again." 

* * *

* * *

      Grandfather had been sent to pick up Naomi and bring her to the hotel, which had sent Clarisse into a funk. She kept muttering to herself, 

      "I told you so. It's starting already. Just you wait and see. She'll go running back to him by tommorrow." 

       Calantha, on the other hand, was not so certain that Naomi's arrival heralded a return to normal. In fact, she was starting to think it was an indication of the opposite. 

      After all, Scarlet hadn't sent Grandfather to pick Naomi up until after meeting with the divorce lawyer. Which...had only happened _today_. All of yesterday afternoon, Scarlet had displayed not so much as a _hint_ of worry about her younger daughter's well-being. In fact, she had been positively radiant with happiness the whole time. 

      What she had displayed was a positively radiant happiness at getting to spend so much time with Clarisse, coupled with being completely free of Harold and his restrictions. Which had especially been on prominent display when they'd gone to the vulture exhibit at the zoo after lunch. 

      "These are my friends, the vultures," Clarisse had explained to Scarlet as they approached the exhibit. "They- _hey! No pecking_!" 

     For reasons unexplained, the vultures had apparently flocked to the fencing and were desperately attempting to peck Scarlet through said fencing. 

     Scarlet, for her part, simply laughed as the vultures dejectedly abandoned their attempt at Clarisse's insistence.

      "I'm afraid it can't be helped," she'd said. "Your father and I did not exactly part on good terms." 

      Clarisse gasped. 

      "Why? What happened?" 

      Scarlet sighed. 

     "We had a few disagreements about your future. Namely, I wanted you to conquer the world. He... _didn't._ And let's leave it at that." 

      "It's all in the past now," 

      Clarisse's brow furrowed in confusion. 

      "How am I supposed to conquer the world by talking to vultures?" she asked. 

      Scarlet sighed and shook her head. 

      "My dear sweet child," she said. "Talking to vultures is the _least_ of your powers. Tell me, do you know who your father is?" 

      "He...he's the Vulture Lord," Clarisse said. "The vultures told me that." 

      Scarlet's expression soured.

       "Did they tell you anything else?" she asked. 

      "Well...they said some other stuff too, stuff about snakes and dead bodies, but...I didn't really understand it, " Clarisse confessed. 

     Scarlet smiled and mussed Clarisse's hair affectionately. 

     "Your father," she said to Clarisse. "Is more than just lord of the vultures. He is...he's what you'd call a god." 

      "A...god? Like the ones you taught me and Calantha about?" 

       Scarlet nodded. 

       "Yes. And you, being his daughter, inherited some of his powers. Not his immortality, of course, but definitely his powers."

       "What kind of powers?" 

      "That," Scarlet said, "Is a very long conversation, best saved for another day. Didn't you say you wanted to teach me how to talk to the vultures?" 

       Clarisse nodded. 

      "I did." 

      And thus began a very unsuccessful attempt to teach Scarlet how to communicate with the vultures, which was followed up by ice cream. 

     The zoo trip had not been the only source of happy mother-daughter bonding time; the past two days had been rife with it. And all of it had made Calantha deeply uncomfortable, mainly because it stirred a new, odd, horrible emotion inside her. An emotion known as jealousy; jealousy of Clarisse, to be specific. 

       Never in her life had Calantha felt jealous of Clarisse, namely because she'd not had much to be jealous of. They'd mostly shared everything that came their way; Harold's scorn, Grandfather's affection, parental favoritism of Naomi...but now, this was different. This was entirely uncharted territory. 

      Back with Harold, there'd been a clear hierarchy of love when it came to the sisters: Naomi, being beloved by both Scarlet and Harold, was on top. Clarisse, scorned by Harold, but treasured by Scarlet, was in the middle. And Calantha, whom Harold also hated, but whom Scarlet did not really love so much as felt obligated to because of something related to Calantha's mother, was at the very bottom. It had not been a good hierarchy by any means, but it was familiar. 

       But without Harold, the hierarchy...the hierarchy was not disappearing, so much as _shifting_. Clarisse, being loved by Scarlet, was now on top. Calantha, whom Scarlet felt obligated to because of Hailey, was in the middle. And Naomi, who used to be precious but had now narrowly avoided being abandoned...was now on the bottom. 

        Calantha wasn't sure she liked this new hierarchy. She didn't like feeling jealous of her best friend and constant companion. And she might not like Naomi, but...nobody deserved to be on the bottom. 

* * *

* * *

        "Mrs. Hathaway, Mrs. Hathaway!" cried one of the reporters in the little press gaggle surrounding a woman, three school-aged girls, and a high-powered black attorney woman on the courthouse steps. "Did you know about the beatings?" 

       The woman, who appeared to be the very image of a suburban housewife, shook her head and said sadly: 

        "No, absolutely not." 

        Hedge would not normally be spying, but there was a smell, a demigod smell, around this Mrs. Hathaway. She wasn't the demigod, of course; Hedge could tell that much. It had to be one of the three girls. He couldn't tell which one, though; they were too far away. 

      "Are you really planning on leaving Harold Hathaway?" another one of the reporters asked, pushing ahead of the others.

      The woman nodded. 

      "Yes," she said. "And as a matter of fact, I am here for the explicit purpose of filing a petition of divorce." 

      This woman...was the wife of Harold Hathaway. That Harold Hathaway. Well, it explained the reporters. Then that meant...that one of these little girls was not Harold Hathaway's daughter. Or possibly, wasn't Mrs. Hathaway's. 

      What had started as a simple reconnaissance mission for demigods in the general area had morphed into a full-blown family drama. Normally, these things involved assigning oneself to a school, and keeping an eye on any and all demigods until an opportunity arose to take them to camp. 

      This would be a bit more difficult, though. 

       Hedge sighed, snapped his fingers, and allowed the Mist to conjure up a believable legal illusion. Once that was accomplished, he walked up to the woman, pushing through the reporters, and held out his hand. 

      "Gleeson Hedge," he said. "Professional process server. Once you're done with the paperwork, I'd be glad to serve the petition to your husband." 

* * *

* * *

          This was outrageous! First, he was arrested for..disciplining his children, and now that little bitch was divorcing him! The gall!

          "Tell her I respond," Harold snapped, snatching the paperwork and furiously filling the paperwork consisting of the opposing papers. "I respond with a vengeance. I contest this divorce with every fiber of my being." 

         When he was done, he handed the paperwork back to the limping process server and said, 

         "And tell that bitch that she's my wife, she doesn't dare leave me." 

         "That's...not how divorce works, buddy," the process server replied grumpily. "You can't...order your spouse to stay." 

         "Fine," Harold spat. "If she must leave, then tell her the kids are mine. All mine. I keep them, the house, everything. And if she dares go against my orders, the little brat of hers that she loves so much gets it." 

        The process server raised an eyebrow. 

        "Little brat." 

       "My stepdaughter," Harold explained. "Clarisse. Probably why she's leaving in the first place." 

* * *

* * *

      _Gods, what a piece of work_ , Hedge thought as he left the courthouse.  _Mrs. Hathaway clearly traded down when she married him._

       Ah well. At least Hedge now had a name to attach to the smell. Clarisse. Now he just needed to figure out which of the three girls it belonged to. 

      But to do that, he'd need more access. Maybe the attorney needed an assistant? 

* * *

* * *

        _Who knew divorces could be so boring?_   Clarisse thought to herself as she watched her mother go over the legal paperwork with Ms. Jones. 

       On TV they were much more dramatic, with lots of shouting and arguing. This was just paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Interspersed with, of course, frustrated exclamations by either Scarlet or the lawyer. Harold, apparently, was being really difficult. 

       The only remotely interesting thing was Ms. Jones' new legal assistant, Gleeson Hedge. He was a curmudgeonly middle-aged man who was about five feet in height. And he was only really interesting that he was obsessed with Clarisse and her sisters. But mostly just Clarisse. 

      Why, Clarisse didn't know. But he was always around the girls, observing them, sizing them up. For what, Clarisse didn't know. Mostly, he stuck to Ms. Jones' office, though. He never followed them back to the hotel or anything. 

     Except, today, he had. Not to the hotel, to the park. Scarlet had wanted to meet with Ms. Jones alone, so Grandfather had taken the three girls to the park. And somehow, Mr. Hedge had followed them, because he was hiding in a bush, watching them. 

      Utterly perplexed, Clarisse walked up to the bush and whispered, 

      "What are you doing?" 

      "Keeping an eye on you," Mr. Hedge replied nonchalantly. 

      " _Why_?" 

     "Because it's my job." 

      Clarisse shook her head. 

      "You're a legal assistant." 

      "No, that's just my cover," Mr. Hedge told her. "I'm actually a protector." 

      "A...protector?"  

     "Yes. My job is to watch over kids like you. Demigods." 

     Clarisse's jaw dropped. 

     "Really?" she gasped, ecstatic. "Do you know my father? The Vulture Lord?" 

      Maybe he did. Maybe he could take her to him.

      Mr. Hedge's face was a mask of confusion. 

     "The Vulture...no, I'm afraid not. I don't know of any god called the Vulture Lord." 

      Clarisse shook his head. 

      "That's not his name, I don't think. I just call him that because the vultures at the zoo told me he was their lord. They also mentioned some things about snakes and dead bodies, but it was very confusing. My mother mentioned he was a god, but she never said his name." 

      Mr. Hedge grumbled something under his breath that she couldn't hear. Before Clarisse could ask what it was, though, her grandfather began calling after her. 

     "I have to go," she said. "I'll talk to you later." 

     And with that, she rushed back towards her family. 

* * *

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

           "Mr. Hathaway," Lakeisha Jones said into the phone. "You do realize that you have been convicted of both a class 2 _and_ a class 4 felony. That could net you up to _thirteen years_ in prison. There is no feasible way for you to have physical custody of either of your biological children. Considering the circumstances, your ex- wife is being very generous in allowing you to even visit." 

          _And criminally negligent_ , _I might add_ , Lakeisha thought privately. 

          "She doesn't get to make those decisions!" Harold's voice blared from the phone. " _I_ am the man of the house! Naomi and Calantha belong to me. They are _my_ property!" 

          _Wow, what a  gentleman_ _,_ Lakeisha remarked to herself. _Truly, I see now why they were married for so long._

          "As a lawyer, you realize that there's this thing called the the Constitution which prohibits human beings from owning other human beings as property, yes?"  Lakeisha replied, rolling her eyes. "Therefore that argument holds absolutely no legal water. Please, just accept the damn settlement. It's been _six months_."

         "No! She is my _wife!_  She is _required_ to obey me! She should accept my settlement!" Harold roared through the phone. 

          _Scarlet might the one divorcing him now_ , Lakeisha observed. _But clearly, he divorced himself from reality_ ages _ago._ _Just where, exactly, did this idiot go to law school?_

        "Sir," Lakeisha pointed out. "Your demands have you in total control of the house, the finances, the cars, and two of your kids. Where are your ex-wife and stepdaughter supposed to live? Also, _you're about to go to prison_ -who is going to raise your daughters? Who is going to provide for their needs? Their paternal grandparents are dead, and you have explicitly said no to having their maternal grandfather as a caregiver." 

        "I don't know," Harold said, and Lakeisha could practically hear him shrugging on the other end. " Have Serena do it." 

        Lakeisha sighed. 

        _Not the fucking mistress_ again, she groane inwardly. 

       Because of course, Harold Hathaway, famous attorney and anti-corruption advocate, had a severely alcoholic law professor mistress on top of the child abuse. Which she and her client had only found out about during the discovery process, and which had caused the media to latch even harder onto the case. 

        "I've already told you, she has too many DUIs for the court to ever accept her as a caregiver," Lakeisha snapped. "Face it, your settlement demands are completely ridiculous, and there is no way they could ever be binding even if your ex-wife did accept them. So please, just accept your ex-wife's settlement and have done with it." 

        "No," Harold growled, and with that, he hung up the phone. 

        Lakeisha hung up and turned to Scarlet. 

        "You're gonna have to go to court," she said with a sigh. "Your husband wouldn't accept the settlement." 

* * *

* * *

       "So ... tell me why don't you think Zeus or Poseidon could be my dad again?" Clarisse asked Hedge, thoroughly confused. 

        Hedge had meeting with the girl every time Mr. La Rue took her and her sisters to the park over the last six months. This had given him plenty of time to tell her about the gods, the satyrs, demigods, and Camp Half-Blood. As to convincing her to let him take her there, however, Hedge had had rather mixed success. 

        While Harold was still being tried, Clarisse had been very enthusiastic about going, demanding that Hedge take her and Calantha right away. But that was the thing; she wouldn't go without Calantha. No amount of explaining to her that Calantha was mortal and that Camp Half-Blood was strictly for demigods would make her budge on that point. 

       And then, when Harold was convicted, Clarisse's desire to leave folded. 

       "Well, Harold's going to go to prison, so...I'm not really in any _danger_. So why would I leave Mom and Grandfather and Calantha?" she'd said the day her stepfather was convicted. 

       Pointing out to her that she could still get eaten by monsters did nothing to erode her certainty. 

      "Well, that's literally _never_ happened to me, so...I doubt it'll happen anytime soon." 

      Of course, Clarisse completely failed to note that this was at least partly because she and her sister had never been allowed to leave the house before the divorce proceedings began. Not counting, of course, those rare outings to the zoo her grandfather had strong-armed her stepfather into allowing. However, acknowledging this meant Hedge had to technically give credit to Harold for it, since he had been responsible for that little policy. And as Hedge was reluctant to credit the girl's abusive stepfather with any mildly decent parenting move-even an accidental one-he chose to let her faulty reasoning slide.

        Thus the topic of leaving had sort of fallen to the wayside, and now they were attempting to piece out the puzzle of who Clarisse's godly father was. Since the vultures were the only clue, and Hedge was not particularly familiar with which gods were attached to which sacred animals, this little task ended up being rather difficult for him. 

     However, there was one answer he could give with 99% certainty, and it was this one: 

     "It's not Poseidon, Zeus, or Hades because they all made a pact not to have any children after World War II. While it is true that Zeus violated the pact once, it is extremely unlikely that he did so twice, or that Hades or Poseidon violated it. Especially considering that the last time Zeus did so, his daughter was transformed into a pine tree." 

     "So that leaves...who else, then?" Clarisse asked.

     Before Hedge could reply, however, who should they be spotted by but Mr. La Rue himself. Who looked rather displeased to find his granddaughter chatting with a satyr-because of course, like an idiot, he had left his legs and horns completely visible. 

     "Don't bother using the Mist," Mr. La Rue said as Hedge lifted his hand to cast an illusion. "I can see through it. Now tell me; who are you and what designs do you have on my granddaughter?" 

* * *

* * *

        "You _have_ to let him take her!" Clarisse heard Grandfather yell in the kitchen. 

        The hotel expenses had gotten a bit impractical on top of the legal fees, so they had ended up moving back into the house a few months back. A decision which had caused a great deal of discomfort due to both the unpleasant memories of Harold the place conjured, and also the fact that Clarisse, Naomi, and Calantha were now sharing a bedroom. 

         But of course, none of that was as uncomfortable as eavesdropping on this argument. 

       "Why?" Scarlet demanded. " Harold is going to be in prison for a _very_ long time, and there is no way the judge won't give me full custody. There is no way Harold could _ever_ hurt her again. Our happy ending is finally within reach, and you would have me throw it away based on what some half-goat man wants?" 

       "No," Grandfather snapped. "I would have you listen to him and do what's best for Clarisse. Because even if Harold gets the full thirteen years, and actually serves it-not getting time off for good behavior or parole or escaping-there is still the fact that she's not fully human. Her powers are going to develop, eventually- hell, we could argue they already have!" 

      "Her ability to talk to birds is _hardly_ a reason to send her all the way to New York!" Scarlet cried. "And besides, I can teach her how to control her powers just fine. After all, that was the plan when I was pregnant with her, and you didn't object then!" 

       "That was different. We still had the cult's resources back then." 

       "We have them now," Scarlet said. "How else do you think I've been paying the legal fees? How do you think I paid for the hotel? Not with your money, that's for certain. That's gone thanks to all the renovations." 

        Grandfather gasped. 

        "You don't mean..." 

        "Yes,"  Scarlet said. "The Treasurer gave me a little book which gives me access to all the most affluent members' bank accounts when he joined. Harold stole it from me, of course-otherwise I could have left at any time. So even if Harold gets all the money, I could still keep us comfortable for quite a while." 

        "Alright, so you have the money," Grandfather conceded. "But do you have the knowledge? Do you know, exactly, _which_ of her father's powers Clarisse will develop next?" 

       "Oh, and his satyr friends in New York do?" Scarlet countered.

      "No, but they probably have a very good guess," Grandfather pointed out. "Which they attained from experience working with demigods like her, which is more than either of us has." 

       "What are they arguing about?" Calantha whispered to Clarisse. 

      "They're trying to decide if they should let Mr. Hedge take me to Camp Half-Blood," Clarisse explained. 

      "Do you want to go?" 

      Clarisse shook her head. 

      "I don't know," she confessed. "On the one hand, I'd get to meet my father and learn how to use my powers when they come. But on the other hand, I'd have to leave you behind." 

 


End file.
